As I talked with them, and gave my news and listened to theirs, again and again I thought of the marvellous misjudgments that were always passed upon the Society; of how men such as these were always thought to be plotting and conspiring, and how any charge against a Jesuit was always taken as proven scarcely before it was stated; and that not by common men only, but by educated gentlemen too, who should know better.  For their talk was of nothing but of the most harmless and Christian matters, and of such simplicity that no man who heard them could doubt their sincerity.  It is true that they spoke of such things as the conversion of England, and of the progress that the Faith was making; and they told many wonderful stories of the religion of the common people in country places, and how a priest was received by them as an angel of God, and of their marvellous goodness and constancy under the bitterest trials; but so, I take it, would the Apostles themselves have spoken in Rome and Asia and Jerusalem.  But as to the disloyalty that was afterwards charged against them, still less of any hatred or murderous designs, there was not one such thought that passed through any of their minds.

It was a plain but well-furnished chamber in which we sat.  Beneath the windows folks came and went continually.  There were hangings on the wall; and a press full of books and papers, and two or three tables; but there was no concealment of anything, nor thought of it.  Through the door I saw Mr. Grove laying for dinner.

“But you will surely stay for dinner,” said Father Fenwick, when I said that I must be gone presently.

I told him that I was to ride to Waltham Cross with my cousins, and that I was to meet them for dinner first at the coffee-house beside the Maypole in the Strand.

“And to Hare Street to-morrow, then,” said Father Whitbread—­or Mr. White as he was called sometimes.

I told him, Yes; and that I did not know how long I should be there.

“The King will be at Windsor next month, I think,” he said; “but he will be back again for August.  You had best be within call then, if he should send for you.” (For I had told them all freely what had passed between myself and His Majesty, and what His Holiness had said to me too.)

“You can command any of us at any time,” he added, “if we can be of service to you.  There are so many folks of all kinds, here, there and everywhere, that it is near impossible for a stranger to take stock of them all; and it may be that our experience may be of use to you, to know whom to trust and of whom to beware.  But the most safe rule in these days is, Trust no man till you know him, and not entirely even then.  There are men in this City who would sell their souls gladly if any could be found to give them anything for it; how much more then, if they could turn a penny or two by selling you or me or another in their stead!”

I thanked him for his warning; and told him that I would indeed be on my guard.